Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe-Chapter 709: Playing the Role

A lawless city of pirates, mercenaries, and dark Magi, Blackshore was situated on the storm-wracked coast of the north-eastern part of Ulier.

Originally, it was a bustling city, however, it fell into anarchy over a hundred years ago and has since become a haven for cutthroats, black market dealers, and rogue Magi seeking power beyond the reach of law.

The city was nominally ruled by a loose council of the strongest pirate captains, crime lords, and spellcasters who enforced their will through force and betrayal.

In truth, however, this city was secretly run by the Umbra Thieves. Blackshore was the location of their main stronghold!

In the eastern part of the city, lay the Darkfang Docks. It was a decaying expanse of rotting piers, smugglers' hideouts, and taverns built upon half-sunken shipwrecks.

This was the beating heart of the city's underworld. This was where ships of infamous pirate ships lay down their anchors.

The docks got their name from the jagged and dark, fang-like rocks that jutted out from the sea like the teeth of some ancient monster from legend.

These 'fangs' also served as a graveyard—not only for ships, but also for people!

In this city, those who cheat the wrong people end up 'fed to the fangs'. Their corpses are tied to the rocks, serving as a warning for others.

A tall masted clipper had just anchored at this treacherous dockside. The gangway was lowered and all kinds of people alighted from it.

There were pirates, mercenaries, smugglers, and even merchants. Of course, the merchants that chose to conduct business in such a lawless place were not so reputable themselves.

Amongst the people who disembarked from the ship, there were two lean, yet muscular men dressed like how a typical mercenary in Ulier would.

One carried dual blades on his back, the other carried one long sword tied to the belt around his waist. Their arms were riddled with scars and so were their faces.

Anyone who looked at them would immediately be intimidated by their appearances. By their scars alone, they looked like people who had cheated death several times.

Moreover, they also radiated a dangerous aura—a magical aura. Such energy was only found in spellcasters.

Although there were countless mortal pirates and adventurers in Darkshore, the number of Magi in this city was, by no means, a small number.

Everyone in Darkshore knew that Magi were not to be messed with. For they were the most dangerous, the most ruthless of the bunch.

After all, a Magus who set foot in the murky waters of Darkshore would by no means be someone from the righteous faction.

These two mercenaries—who were clearly Magi—walked through the broadwalk. Wherever they went, people made way for them out of fear.

The people not only stared at them, but also the slave that they were dragging in chains behind them.

Yes. Despite human trafficking and slavery being banned in the Acadian Empire, the city of Blackshore operated under its own rules, where anything and everything was for sale.

The people at the docks gazed intently at the two mercenaries dragging a beautiful female slave behind them.

After all, it was not every day one got to see a tied-up beautiful elf.

All sorts of lustful and deranged gazes were drawn toward the silver-haired elf, however, none dared to step forward and intercept the mercenaries. The two scarred men radiated quite a daunting aura, after all.

However, there were always some brave—or simply ignorant—people amongst the masses, who did not know what was good for them.

Or perhaps, they were highly confident in their own abilities or the people supporting them.

"Oi." A group of low-life thugs suddenly blocked the two mercenaries' way.

There were about half a dozen of them, wearing mismatched leathers, ragged coats, and salt-coated scarves.

Clearly, these people cared little for their appearances, favoring whatever kept them alive in the strong sea winds. Many of them even bore crude tattoos, marking past crimes or debts.

The one leading the group was a lean, bearded man with a red bandana around his head. He stepped forward and grinned, displaying his yellowed teeth.

"You lads have scored quite the little play-thing, eh?"

The two middle-aged mercenaries, one raven-haired, the other brown-haired, gazed at the man indifferently.

Not eliciting any response from them, the bearded man with the red bandana frowned. "Oi, did you not hear what I said?"

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

He strode forward, stopping right before the raven-haired middle-aged man. He then retrieved his dagger and pressed it against the man's throat.

"Now, do you hear me?" He grinned.

However, the raven-haired mercenary still remained indifferent.

Seeing this, the bearded man's expression darkened. He couldn't help but scream at the raven-haired man's face, "We're the Brine Rats, ya hear me, lad? The Brine fuckin' Rats!"

At once, there was a commotion amongst the small crowd that had gathered, waiting for a drama to unfold. Clearly, they had heard of the Brine Rats.

They were a notorious brand of lowlife pirates who infested the waters around Blackshore like vermin clinging to rotting ships.

Comprised of cutthroats, deserters, and gutter-born rogues, they thrived on smuggling, extortion, and petty raiding rather than grand naval battles.

They were known to be cowardly when the odds were against them, but merciless when they had the advantage. The Brine Rats preyed on the weak, lone merchants, unarmed travelers, and coastal villages to defend themselves.

This band of lowlives mostly operated in Blackshore's Darkfang Docks, trading stolen goods for coin, drowning themselves in cheap rum, and plotting their next misdeed in dimly lit taverns where even other pirates sneer at their lack of honor.

"Pfft!" Despite having a sharp dagger pressed against his throat, the raven-haired middle-aged man couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

Seeing this, the bearded man with the red bandana muttered coldly, "You think it's funny, eh? Would you still think it's funny when I slit—"

However, the pirate was interrupted by the scarred man. "Who in their right minds would call themselves Brine Rats?"

The man's lips formed a taunting smirk. "Are you stupid?"

"I was going to let you go once you handed me the elven whore," said the bearded pirate, his eyes spewing anger and venom. "But now, I must make an example out of you and let everyone know what happens when someone disrespects… the… huh?"

Midway through the conversation, the bearded pirate felt something amiss. Along with that empty feeling came the sensation of pain. Agonizing pain.

It was only then that he realized that his wrist that was wielding the dagger had, at some point, gone missing.

Gazing at his sliced off hand that was spewing blood, the man was silent for but a moment before he started screaming at the top of his lungs.

"AAAAHH—"

However, his screams too were interrupted when the raven-haired middle-aged man viciously grabbed his face. His grip was so tight that the pirate's jaws immediately shattered.

The man stepped forward and spoke coldly, "Many have pointed their blades at me, but none have lived to tell the tale."

"Tell me, rat." The man's lips curled up into a cold smile. "Did you think you could get away with pressing that dagger at my throat?"

Before the pirate could even answer, the raven-haired man had ruthlessly twisted his neck at a bizarre angle, instantly killing the man.

As the pirate limply fell at his feet, the raven-haired man gazed at the rest of the group of thugs who had attempted to stop him.

"What about you lot? Do you wish to point your blades at me too?"

There was pin-drop silence amidst the crowd. When they gazed at the corpse of the bearded pirate with the red bandana and saw the unnatural way that his neck had been snapped, they felt a chill crawl down their spines.

At once, there was intense commotion and everyone scurried away—including the Brine Rats.

Seeing this, the raven-haired man laughed heartily. "Hahaha, where are all of you going? How rude of you! Come, here. I wish to make friends."

But the people started running even faster when they heard his words.

No one wanted to befriend a madman!

The other mercenary, the brown-haired man with the dual blades on his back, stepped forward. He gazed at the corpse of the pirate with complicated emotions.

Then, he looked at the raven-haired man and couldn't help but ask with unease, "Was this really necessary?"

Adam turned to look at him and patted his shoulder. "Of course, it was. In places such as these, it's good to make an example like this. Otherwise, the flies will keep bothering you."

With that said, he turned around and walked towards the heart of the city, "Come now, Brother! Let us sell that elven slave and make some money! We shall then spend the night boozing and whoring! Hahaha!"

Kael gazed at Adam's departing figure and couldn't stop his lips from twitching. He then turned around to gaze at the slave, who was in fact, none other than Liriel.

When their eyes met, both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Isn't Adam playing his role a little too… well?